Scarfy
by Faba
Summary: Mark loses Scarfy... and sparks fly...


Mark was exhausted. Not only that, but he had lost his scarf! After a brief time, in which he had put himself through denial about losing the ratty thing and cried some, Mark marched home, filming himself using words like, 'Dang FLABBIT!', 'Good golly gosh!', and last but not least, 'OH SNICKERDODDLES!' To say the least, he was miserable, and _really _didn't want to see Mimi and Roger making out on the couch when he finally slumped through the door.

"Ahh!" Mark screamed. "You guys!" He quickly covered his eyes over his glasses, keeping them flat and tight against his face. This proved uncomfortable quickly and he abandoned that, then fleeing in the opposite direction, and straight into a wall. Falling back onto the floor with a large thud, Mark deemed this as, 'The-Worst-Day-In-The-History-Of-The-World-And-Possibly-Even-The-Universe-Cuz-This-Day-Really-Does-SUCK'.

Roger broke away from Mimi and stared down at Mark, who had a really foolish whiny face on and was kicking his feet against the floor. Roger simply stared. Soon, Mimi came over and poked Roger.

"What are you doing?" she whispered quietly, while she watched Mark sniffle with her wide brown eyes.

Roger didn't answer for a second, but soon shook himself. "Mimi, watch him s_quirm_…" He was transfixed.

Mimi sighed and knelt beside Mark. "Get up."

Mark moaned pathetically. "_Life_ isn't worth _living_. It's all a big depression now… it's like my whole world got turned upside down and I'm still up right… I want to—"

"Well, that's all very nice, but I don't think that lying there on the ground is going to solve any of your problems… especially when your fly's _wide_ open." Mark's eyes snapped open and Mimi gave him a curt nod before standing upright once more, her eyes flashing pointedly. Mark whined again, but zipped up his pants, and blew air out of his nose.

"You look like a bull, Marky!"

"Shut up, Roger." Mark got up dejectedly and brushed off the dust from his pants.

"Now," Mimi said soothingly, "What's up?"

"I… I lomascmmf…" Mark fiddled with his thumbs whilst mumbling.

"What was that?" she pushed. "Speak up."

Mark suddenly gained confidence. "_I lost_…" Then, he lost it quickly, seeing Roger's smirk, "Mmuamscarmmmmgf…"

Roger laughed softly and Mimi said, "What?"

Mark's eyes looked from Roger to Mimi, before staring down at his shoes once more. "Ilawmumscaagff."

Mimi stared at Roger, irritated. "I want you to stop being yourself for _five minutes_ please."

Roger nodded and grinned at Mark. "Speak up, Marky and stop mumbling. You look… stupid."

Mimi smacked Roger and ordered him into a corner. For extra measure, she even rolled up a large piece of construction paper into a cone and scribbled 'dunce' onto it. She placed it onto his head. "Now, you, _shut up_."

"But I didn't say any—" But Mimi's next look was enough to seriously shut him up and he concealed himself in the dark corner. He soon decided to tally the passing minutes by etching them into the wall. At least he was distracted.

"Now," she said, turning back to Mark, "Tell me why the hell you're moping around like a cat that just got fixed?" Roger giggled in the background. "I'll fix you!" Mimi yelled and took off her shoe, throwing it at him. Roger once again lapsed into silence, proceeding to rub the lump on his forehead.

"Well, it really all started when my checkered beauty sort of flew away on a gently—but _evil_—breeze…"

"So, you lost your scarf?" she checked.

"Yes."

"And…?"

"_And_… I lost my scarf…"

Mimi was obviously waiting for more, but soon, realizing there _was_ no more, simply pondered about what to say next. "Well, that certainly is… _interesting_…" she finally blurted out.

"How so?" he asked innocently.

"You've become intoxicated with blinding misery because you've lost your scarf," Mimi said. "I find that_ very_ interesting."

"Really? Curious indeed."

For a few moments there was silence. During this silence, Mark got up and started to slump over to the beat up fridge. When he bent down low to open up the small door, his face distorted into a sort of exasperated/angry look. It was hilarious to Roger and he snickered.

"You look like you've got wind!"

"Roger!" Mark yelled loudly, getting up.

"Well," he scoffed, "You _do_." Mimi almost looked as if she was going to agree, but didn't and made a sort of half-snort loudly. She giggled and covered her mouth, blushing.

Mark walked over and stared Roger down. They both were staring at each other so intently that their noses touched. Mimi stopped giggling and raised an eyebrow, but they hardly noticed.

A millisecond later, Mark lifted up his hands and shoved Roger in the opposite direction, but didn't train his gaze away from the other man's.

Roger walked closer and pushed Mark back.

To make a long story short, Mark soon had Roger's leg in his mouth, biting down hard, while Roger proceeded in gripping Mark in a headlock. Mark looked demonic biting down on Roger's leg like sort of like a Tasmanian Devil. He even soon succeeded in tearing the pant leg, but Roger obviously didn't care; the purple hue Mark's face had was pleasure enough and he added on a noogie for good measure. Mark gagged and his tongue lolled.

"Say you give," Roger ordered. "Or else… WET WILLY." He smiled. Mark hastily dubbed Roger the Devil's Spawn and struggled harder.

"Roger," he gasped, "If you don't let go—"

"You'll what? Wet yourself?"

"I'll… I'll kick you between the legs!" he fumed, literally foaming at the mouth.

"Just try. I dare you. Even if you succeed in doing it, you'll never hurt me, I'm way too—"

Mimi squirmed from her comfortable place on the couch and stopped him by coughing. "That's enough!" she said loudly. "Please, Roger, I'll never forgive you if you finish that sentence!" Her eyes shifted to Mark. "And, let him go, before I _do_ kick you between the legs… with my five inch heels."

Seeing the point of the heel on Mimi's foot, Roger immediately developed a nettled look in which his mind swirled with many bad words that Mark would never use. He let go of the poor, blonde, scrawny man and crossed his arms like a child would.

"Now, Mark," Mimi started, stealing glances out the window, "I noticed something while you were busy with Roger…"

Mark scrunched up his face. "Mimi. _Ew_."

"Don't be weird now, that's not what I meant. It's… about your scarf…"

Mark immediately brightened and sprang up. He stumbled over to Mimi excitedly, smiling, but she looked displeased. Mark certainly wouldn't let this faze him. "What? What about it, Mimi!?"

She glanced out of the window nervously and a rather confused Mark took the hint. So he walked over to the window and peered out. His jaw dropped to the floor and he screeched loudly, throwing an accusingly index finger out the window and babbling. "CAT. You there, kitty! Stop it… stop it right _now_!" The poor soul looked about ready to leap out the window. "Stop doing dirty on my scarf… or… or I'll… I'll throw my blasted boot at you!"

Roger gave Mimi a curious look as Mark ranted. "There's a cat raping his scarf?"

Mimi nodded sadly and Mark took Roger's guitar and threw it out of the window. It landed with a sickening clang. "PICKLES," Mark fumed, "I missed the goss-darn cat!"

At this point, Roger had no idea what had just happened. His mind whirled with many different possibilities about what _could _have just happened. The way he saw was that either 1: Mark threw his GUITAR out of the window, or 2: MARK THREW HIS FRICKIN' GUITAR OUT OF THE WINDOW.

Roger flew down the hall, in a desperate attempt to save his musical instrument while Mark ranted yet some more at the cat, who blindly proceeded in the raping of Scarfy—a name that Mark gave, due to an immense lack of imagination. They were both yelling loudly.

"SON OF A COOKIE BATCH!" Mark screamed at the cat.

"MARK, YOU'RE THE SON OF A BITCH HERE!" Out the window, they could see Roger sprinting toward a garbage can where Roger's guitar lay battered, next to. "I'M GONNA GET YOU FOR THIS. I HOPE THAT GIVES SCARFY EMOTIONAL TRAMA FOR THE REST OF ITS F—"

Mimi flopped back onto the couch again, sighed and picked up a magazine. "Men."


End file.
